The Human Patient
by MoniHoag
Summary: Not even the Decipticon's deserve this....


**Title:** "The Human Patient"

**Categories**: Humor

**Disclaimer:** Everything related to Transformers belongs to Hasbro. This story is for fun only.

**Rating:** T

**Summary**: Not even the Decipticons deserve this…..

Thank you to Graycalls for Beta work, advice, friendship, and hand-holding.

_Beta's Note: Yeah… I apologize in advance for any errors I missed while laughing. _

* * *

Sam laid on the exam table, trying hard not to fuss or scratch. Both were very difficult tasks as he was very fussy right now, and very itchy.

Further proof that the Witwickys were cursed; the first time Sam had gotten permission to stay with the Autobots for what was meant to be a week of fun, and he got sick.

Judy and Ron Witwicky were on a long-overdue vacation, right now enjoying the sun and fun on a cruise ship. Mikaela was with her grandmother, and it had been a perfect time for Sam to spend some time at the base and just relax and enjoy himself. He hadn't felt well on the ride to the base, but figured it was just car sickness -- Bee did like to speed and take turns pretty fast. But after his first night Sam had to admit that he was rapidly becoming sick. Bee had scanned him, detected a fever, and hustled him off to the medical area. Ratchet was with Optimus on a mission, so Bee had reluctantly taken his charge to the army doctor. Robert Epps went in with Sam with Bumblebee waited anxiously outside the building.

The army doctor was kind, but Sam was nervous. Like any teenager, he might protest that he was mature and grown-up, but the minute he was sick or scared, he wanted his mommy.

"Well," the doctor said after her exam, "we will have to wait for the blood tests to be certain, but it looks like we are dealing with chicken pox."

"Chicken pox?" Sam and Epps protested at the same moment. Sam glared at Epps as the sergeant continued. "What, he didn't get them as a kid?"

"Apparently not," Dr. Wallace shrugged. "Is there anyway we can get his medical records?"

"We'll see what we can do," Epps said with a sigh. Sam fell into a very unique category on the secret base. He was a minor, and a civilian, yet more important than most anyone else there. "His parents are on a cruise; we should be able to get a call through to them."

Sam whimpered, and Epps batted a hand that was trying to reach an itch on the middle of the teen's back. "So what should we do now?"

"The isolation ward is open, we can admit him--" the doctor began but a deep voice interrupted her.

"That will not be necessary," Ratchet's voice sounded from Epp's phone. "Bumblebee has forwarded to me all his scans. We will take care of him back in his room in the Autobot section." Ratchet may be gone on a mission, but Bumblebee had standing orders to alert the medic anytime he felt Sam was ill.

The doctor's eyebrow's rose. Over the months she and Ratchet had developed a grudging respect for each other, based on a mutually scary reputation. On the base, Dr. Wallace was considered a fair match for Ratchet the Hatchet. Most NEST members were truly torn as to who they would rather face when injured or ill. The two had argued over a number of medical topics before. But, most of all, she didn't like the idea of the Autobot poaching on her human patients.

"Really, he would be much better off here," she said huffily.

"Nonsense," Ratchet retorted, and there was a definite sneer in his voice. "Your primitive medicine is not effective; Samuel will be far better off with the treatment I can provide."

"Really?" the doctor crossed her arms. "And how many patients have you treated with chicken pox?"

"Irrelevant," Ratchet snapped back. "Now if you would stop arguing pointlessly, Bumblebee is outside and he has instructions to return Sam to his rooms. I will be back at the base in two hours."

Sam was occupied with trying to scratch a spot on his stomach, and Ratchet was on audio only. Only Epps saw the gleam that entered the doctor's eyes. It was a look that made him shiver.

"Well, far be it from me to interfere with a patient's care," she said, and Ratchet should have picked up on the dangerous tone in her voice, but he didn't. "Just let me give Sam some medicine to alleviate some of the discomfort until you can return." Her voice was almost sugary, and Epp's shivered.

"Acceptable. Ratchet out."

Still looking mild and immensely scary, the good doctor filled some prescriptions, put them in a bag, and helped deliver Sam to Bumblebee who scooped him up to carry him back to the Autobot section of the base. Once the yellow guardian was out of sight, Epps spoke softly.

"They really like the kid. They might actually be able to put up with him until he's better."

Wallace shook her head. "Three days, tops," she predicted. "Sam is a great kid, but a teenager with chicken pox? No way. Put me down for 72 hours before they are begging me to take him back." She glanced at the sergeant. "And before you think I am being mean to Sam, he both know he will be fine. Ratchet no doubt will be able to come up with some medicine that will help him. They'll take care of him. It's the _Autobots_ that are going to suffer from the chicken pox."

Epps nodded, and began busily setting up the latest betting pool.

***************

**Day One**

Bumblebee got Sam back to their room, and settled into the bed that had recently been installed beside Bee's recharge berth. Sam was progressively getting more whiny and more itchy and Bee fussed over him, trying to get him comfortable. Bee had downloaded all the info Ratchet had sent him on chicken pox, and the guardian batted Sam's hands away from the now numerous hives.

"Sam, you are not supposed to scratch."

"Itches," Sam grumbled. His throat was now hurting, he was dizzy, and he had started to cough. All in all, he felt pretty miserable.

Bee managed to get the teenager to take the medicine Dr. Wallace had given them, and he dutifully applied the ointment to all the red spots. Bee swore that the spots were multiplying before his eyes. He managed to cover Sam's front and then got the teen to roll over so the 'Bot could cover his back. Sam was grumpy by the time Bee was finished and irritably swatted at the yellow fingers.

"Hurts!" Sam whined.

"I'm sorry, Sam" Bee said, worriedly scanning Sam and sending the results to Ratchet. Sam's fever had risen and he tucked a blanket around the boy. Sam fussed, coughing his disapproval, but seemed to settle down a little as the medicine slowly took effect. Bee urged Ratchet to hurry and sat nervously, monitoring his charge.

Ratchet arrived an hour later and went to work mixing up some medicines. Sam had managed to fall asleep, and he was not at all happy at being awoken to take some nasty liquid.

""It's awful," he coughed, protesting. Bee was supporting his back while trying to get Sam to drink the medicine, and Sam grumbled that the 'Bot was causing his back to hurt more.

"The taste is irrelevant," Ratchet argued. "It will make you feel better."

"I don't want it," Sam argued, putting on a full blown tantrum. He slapped the glass. "Take it away."

Ratchet's optics blinked, a bit nonplussed. "It is logical to take it," he tried.

"No!" Sam started coughing and Bee handed him some fresh Kleenex. "I wanna go to sleep."

Bumblebee looked at the medic and made a gesture much like a human shrug. What could they do?

"Alright, Sam," Ratchet said, regaining his calm. "Go to sleep." Some recharge would no doubt help in the healing.

Thirty minutes later, Sam was fussing and completely messing up the formally neat bedcovers. He was coughing too hard now to sleep and the itching was growing worse despite the ointment. Bee kept tucking the covers around him, and Sam kept kicking them off. Ratchet hurriedly made up another batch of medicine and Sam whined that tasted almost as bad as the first, but he did take a few swallows before threatening to 'barf' all over. After another round of ointment, Sam finally managed to fall asleep.

Ratchet had a third version of medicine waiting when Sam awoke, but the teen threw up immediately after taking a few sips. While Bee tried to clean up the bed, Optimus came in and held Sam, who complained that the metal of the Prime's hand hurt his hives. Ratchet prepared some new ointment only to have Sam balk now at being stripped like a baby and he said he wanted to put it on himself. The 'Bots let him go into the bathroom, and Sam was out less than a minute later, bitching that he couldn't reach the spots on his back. Ratchet, Optimus, and Bumblebee were all accused of "rubbing too hard" and making the hives worse when they tried to apply the ointment. Wheeljack was drafted in and his smaller hands were finally deemed acceptable.

The twins made five trips to the mess hall before finally bringing food back that Sam was willing to try to eat. Sam ate, only to throw up again when Ratchet tried medicine batch number four. Ratchet prepared some medicine that could be injected, and Sam freaked at the needle. Ratchet had to promise a large amount of candy and unlimited music downloads before Sam agreed to let the medic near him. As the sun went down, Sam finally managed to go into an uneasy sleep, interrupted by coughing and runny nose and itching. Sideswipe was pressed into getting a delivery of Kleenex and Bee and Ratchet prepared themselves for a long night.

*****

**Day Two**

During the night, Ratchet did some more intense research into the treatment of chicken pox, and discovered that oatmeal baths could soothe the hives. There wasn't a bathtub in the quarters Sam and Bee shared, so Wheeljack quickly welded together some barrels and created a gigantic tub the next morning. Ironhide reluctantly agreed to be the water bearer and delivered the filled barrel. The problem now was getting Sam into the improvised bath.

Sam announced that the water was too cold, so Ironhide took the tub out and heated it using a blow torch adaptation. He brought back a bubbling tub of boiling water, and was immediately ejected by Ratchet. Ironhide then had to figure out how to cool the water and the twins suggested using a fire extinguisher, having seen on TV that the foam from an extinguisher could be used to cool things. They sprayed foam on the metal tub, and it did indeed result in cooler water. A foam covered weapons expert brought back the tub, and was sent back out because now the water was too cold again, plus the foam was slippery and the smell made Sam nauseous. Sideswipe helped to spray down the tub, which had to be cleaned and refilled, and then carefully monitored with all sensors until the blow torch had warmed the water to what was hoped to be an accepted degree.

The water temperature was now agreeable, but Sam was whining about being naked in front of all the 'Bots, so everyone except Ratchet and Bee were ejected. It took both of them to get the teen into the water, and settled. Bee carefully lined the edge of the barrel with towels and blankets so there would be no sharp edges, and kept a hand in the tub, serving as a backrest for the boy. Ratchet dumped in the oatmeal that twins had obtained from the kitchens, and waited optimistically for a miracle.

Ten minutes later, with Sam still fussy, Ratchet sent for more oatmeal. Another order followed that, and then another. An hour later, Sam was basically sitting in now cold oatmeal, and was shivering and wheezing. Bee lifted him out and oatmeal dripped everywhere. Sam needed to be cleaned, but he was too sick now to stand in the shower by himself and even Bee couldn't fit in the small bathroom. Optimus had to be called back, and he was able to at least reach into the bathroom with his longer arms. Sam was draped over a finger and Optimus carefully extended his hand and arm in and after some bumping, got Sam into the shower cubicle. Sam turned on the water and finally announced that he was clean. More towels had to be sent for to clean up the water-soaked bathroom and sponge up the oatmeal that was spreading as if under its own power.

Ratchet had devised medicine batch number five after careful research into human taste buds and his memory processors recalling what foods Sam seemed to like. Only now, Sam's taste buds had rebelled, and he flatly refused to open his mouth after the first taste. Skids had delivered fresh bedding during the bath, which had to be sent back after new ointment was applied and Sam began bitching about the sheets sticking to his skin. Bee wrapped Sam up in a soft blanket and paced back and forth, humming softly, trying to comfort the teen. Optimus then took a turn, as did Ratchet and Ironhide.

Sam wheezed that he wanted ice cream, and Prowl invaded the base kitchen, returning with the entire stock from the freezers. Every flavor was rejected until Sam finally grudgingly agreed to plain vanilla, but only if it had caramel sauce. Prowl finally found the jars of caramel sauce, only to have to make a third trip to the kitchens because he had forgotten that humans needed utensils to eat. By then, most of the ice cream was melting, but they managed to get a few bowls into Sam's stomach. Optimus then had to apologize to the kitchen manager for pilfering from the stocks, and quickly process a purchase order for more ice cream.

Steam was a commonly suggested remedy to help alleviate stuffy noses, and coughing, and Wheeljack was small enough to enter the bathroom and turn on the hot water to produce a steamy shower. Bee managed to herd Sam into the bathroom and the teen laid on the floor, wrapped in a fresh blanket. When Bee opened the door to check on him, the steam fogged his optics and it was nearly 10 minutes before he could see clearly again. During that time Sam stumbled out, not entirely coherent and grumbling, and made himself comfortable on Ratchet's foot. The medic was frozen in place for two hours, terrified of moving and waking up the boy. When coughing woke Sam up, Optimus took him while Ratchet tried another injection. This time he had to promise unlimited access to movies and computer games before Sam allowed the shot.

The 'Bots were optimistic that Sam would sleep for a while now, but the latest injection seemed to have little effect. By now, all Autobots on base were serving in shifts, two hours at a time, applying ointment on hives, trying to get Sam to sip water, and wiping a very runny nose.

The itching had grown worse, and someone had the bright idea of putting gloves in Sam's hands to try to limit the boy's scratching. Several pairs of military dress white gloves were tried, and Sam made it perfectly clear, in very colorful language, what he thought about that idea. By now, Ratchet was desperate enough to try a full sedative (for Sam _and_ for himself) and Optimus promised Sam a generous weekly allowance (payable from NEST funds) for life in return for taking the pills.

Sam wanted a can of soda to take with the pills, and the twins jimmied the nearest vending machine to get several cold cans of the desired beverage. Finally, the teen seemed to settle down, tucked in Bee's arms. By now, blankets had been entirely rejected because they were too scratchy, but Sam was warm enough by lying on the warm metal of Autobot hands and arms. The two hour shifts continued through the night, every transfer fraught with fear that Sam might wake up.

*****

**Day Three**

Optimus received a briefing, and was relieved to know that while Sam was miserable and left that fact in no doubt, physically he wasn't worsening. The Prime commented to Ratchet and Bee that he had "confidence" in them so he was leaving on a mission, and then was forced to hurriedly leave when Ratchet threw something at him and yelled that he was a "big chicken of the chicken pox".

After throwing up breakfast, Sam settled into a full grown sulk for the day. He was tired, but couldn't sleep. He flatly rejected the idea of another oatmeal bath so the twins were on constant standby to supply more ointment as needed. He wanted to watch TV, but nothing was on that he liked despite having 1,000 channels at his disposal. Sunstreaker had to make a run for another load of Kleenex after Sam tried a warm shower to sooth his skin and all it did was make his nose run even more.

Ratchet was foolish enough to try magic Autobot medicine batch number six, and Sam took one sniff and refused. Optimus (via phone) had to promise an advance on the weekly allowance before Sam would try even one sip of the foul potion. After a suitable display of gagging and drama, Sam rejected another swallow of it.

Every Autobot on base was now in a state of panic. Sam wanted ice cream again; no, he wanted brownies; no, he wanted ice tea. The twins were running constantly back and forth from the kitchens to obtain the item of the minute that might agree with Sam's stomach, only to rush back as every bite was rejected. Prowl broke into the supply offices to try and find blankets that were soft enough to not irritate the rashes that were still covering Sam's skin. Wheeljack was basically stationed on duty in the bathroom, helping Sam when he hurled and steadying him in the shower. Ratchet started medicine batch number seven only to give up in despair.

"Pit, how much longer will this last?" Bumblebee whispered. "It's been three days, surely it will get better!"

Ratchet summoned the energy to process the data on chicken pox and froze in horror as if he had been off lined. Every Autobot on base hacked in and found the same piece of information – chicken pox in young adults could last up to a week before symptoms began to abate.

_**They were only halfway through?!**_

Sam wasn't exactly abandoned on Doctor Wallace's doorstep in a basket with a note asking her to take care of him, but it was close.

By the end of the day, Sam was dozing peacefully in a hospital isolation room, agreeably taking the medicine Dr. Wallace prescribed and improving already. The Autobots were in emergency recharge. Wallace collected a handsome amount from the betting pool that she used to splurge on a girl's shopping day in the city.

And the big chicken – that is, the Prime – remained far away on his very convenient "mission". Except for forwarding a large sum of money to Sam's ATM account, Optimus wisely stayed far away the base for the remainder of the week.

The End


End file.
